


Aplomb

by rrc



Series: Sangfroid [1]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Drabble Collection, Female-Centric, Ficlet Collection, Gen, Gravity Falls Is Weird, Minor Canonical Character(s), Minor Character(s), Minor Character-Centric, POV Female Character, Shorts, Suspense
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-16
Updated: 2016-09-16
Packaged: 2018-08-13 23:44:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7990669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rrc/pseuds/rrc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of ficlets and drabbles about Wendy Corduroy, written around words randomly generated by this <a href="http://www.textfixer.com/tools/random-words.php">site</a>. All of the fics in this collection are 500 words and under.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aplomb

**Author's Note:**

> (All titles are whatever word the ficlet/drabble is centered around. Maybe it's obvious but i thought i should mention it bc it woulda confused me lol)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ah, Gravity Falls, a lovely little town...  
> where creepy men in robes follow you around...
> 
>  _Warnings:_ just that Wendy gets followed late at night by some people. That's it.
> 
>  _Wordcount:_ 200 (Double Drabble)

Sometimes, every once in a while, she’ll catch a glimpse of a featureless figure, lurking in shadows. Sometimes two, or three...

 _You’re being paranoid._ Wendy tells herself. _There’s nothing there. You’re seeing things._

She turns and stands stone cold still, searching the lightless places just out of reach of the street lamps, the dead little sections between the houses and trees and bushes. She twists the strap of her knapsack in her fingers.

_It’s like how you spot something out of the corner of your eye and think it’s a person and you turn and it’s, like, a coatrack or something. Chill out._

But there aren’t coatracks in the forest, or outside windows late at night.

Or on the sides of the street at 3 am.

She tightens her grip around the knapsack strap and walks a little faster.

When she turns down Oak Street and into the woods towards her house, she breaks into a run.

As she races into the treeline, Wendy can swear she hears a murmuring sound somewhere behind her. There’s a moment, just before the crunch of undergrowth under her heels, that she thinks she hears it clearly.

It sounds an awful lot like chanting.

 


End file.
